


catch me in the morn / drink me like the morning dew / warm your skin on mine

by unnohrian (cuddlebros)



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Clit Piercings, Consensual Somnophilia, F/F, Haikus are Involved, Lesbian Sex, Morning Sex, Nipple Piercings, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-22 02:12:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14298516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlebros/pseuds/unnohrian
Summary: Your girlfriend is nigh-on impossible to rouse in the mornings, so you use a new technique to try and get her out of bed.





	catch me in the morn / drink me like the morning dew / warm your skin on mine

Mornings, in general, are pretty rough for you. It’s pointless, verging on dangerous, to even  _try_ and rouse Mitama, but your own responsibilities refuse take the same ease. Part of what had attracted her to you in the first place was how comfortable you were to sleep on, and now that you share a bed, she uses you as a pillow—which you don’t mind, normally, it’s just—it’s just you _really_ need to get up, no matter how comfortable you are.

But you have a plan this morning. The two of you had discussed it, and when you’d brought it up, Mitama had been over the moon: “ _O, sweet heart of mine / Our needs combining as one / A smile warms my soul_ ”.

Her body is warm and soft, pressed against your side so completely that you had had to move your arm from in between you to curl around her in your sleep. Her snores—those snores that always give her away in meetings—are soft and relaxed, and for a moment you allow yourself to admire her.

Beneath her sleep dress (a shirt of yours that she had stolen) you see the imprint of her nipple piercings pushing against the fabric. Two small metal bells, that keep her nipples visible and sensitive whenever she doesn’t wear a covering. They’re so tempting that you don’t bother trying to resist them—your fingers move from her waist to fiddle with the hardened peak of her available breast. She shifts a little, only making the quietest of noises before settling right back into snoring.

She’s totally at your mercy, and you can only smile down at her with appreciation that she’d let you have her this way.

It takes a little shifting on your part, but you manage to get your free hand underneath the hem of your shirt, surprised to find nothing where you expected to find the waistband of her briefs.

“Ooh, my dirty poet…”

You don’t mind though; it just makes it that much easier for you to slip your fingers further, searching for her clit. Your fingers find it, already a little wet—perhaps you were giving her good dreams!—and circle a little, playing with the ring that you know sits just above it for good measure. Her hips mould into your hand, unconsciously searching out more of that delicious feeling.

“My lovers touches / Whilst I rest my weary head... / _Right there_! _Keep going_!”

“There is no way that she’s started writing haikus in her sleep,” you mutter, kissing her forehead and checking that her eyes are still shut. “But of course she has.”

You honour the wishes of her sleepy poem, rolling her clit in circles and dipping your fingers inside her intermittently, never letting her moans get too loud before you back away. As much as you want her to wake up, it would be a shame for _anyone_ to awaken to a subpar orgasm.

She’s in the perfect position for you to nose at the side of her neck, the sensitive part that she loves you to kiss down, and you can tell she loves it by the way she cranes her neck to give you more space to work with.

But there’s only so much you can do in this position, no matter how nice it is to nuzzle her. Gently, making sure to take your time, you slide your arm out from under your sleeping partner, and crawl down the bed until you’re level with her pussy. You see the little ball of silver glisten out from the patch of soft, pink hair that covers her mound, and smile at it. Especially here, in the low light of the morning, it guides your wanting mouth to exactly the right place, making it so easy to tease the little ball with the tip of your tongue. Her hips lazily buck, seeking more of your tongue, but she isn’t awake to guide your pace, so you keep your licks languid and slow.

Beside you, her legs squirm a little bit as she edges closer to waking, but you don’t let up. She’s rich and deep on your tongue, so familiar in scent and taste that you could write sonnets about it—but knowing her, she’d call them traitorous. Seventeen syllables didn’t seem enough for the way you felt for her, but somehow she always made them larger than their parts.

Like now, for instance.

“Warming, deep below / A heat builds as she licks, eats / My dearest, please, more…”

Her poem is punctuated with whimpers, the only indicator that she’s rounding on wakefulness. Your fingers, already coated in her slick, easily slip into her, and while you tickle her clit they plunge in inch by inch until you can feel her fluttering around your fingertips. It’s invigorating to have her at your mercy, knowing that you do whatever you wanted here—you could stop completely, you could stretch her and stretch her until you could fit your largest toys in her, you could edge her for hours without her knowing.

But you love her, _and_ you want her awake, so you leave your more mischievous ideas for a rainy day, and ramp up your ministrations. It takes a little stretching, but you reach to massage her breast with one hand, flicking the nipple every now and then—and you feel the effect of every flick, her cunt clenching around your fingers when those little sparks of sensitivity hit her. Soon, she’s moaning, and grinding down on your hand in time with your thrusts, but when you look up, her eyes are still blissfully shut. Her dedication to being asleep is… almost admirable.

Not quite, though. So you ramp up your licks, and suck on her clit until you feel her, finally, come undone, her back arching and your fingers surrounded by her release. She’s so muted, but no less beautiful than usual. And you have the perfect front row seat to all of her.

Mitama yawns, blinking open bleary, starry eyes. “What an awakening… a sight of beauty between my legs, and the crest of a wave of pleasure… it’s almost enough to make me want to—”

“No! Mitama, don’t go back to sleep, please! We need to get breakfast! There’s so much to do today—”

“Mmh, sounds like work. I’d much rather sleep… and you’re so warm! Come back to my arms, my love…”

“Nuh uh uh,” you say, getting off the bed, dodging her groping hands. “I’m heading to the hot springs. Considering they’re so empty in the morning, I was hoping…”

“Oh! The warmth of the spring / More morning intimacy / I may leave my bed!”

You let out a relieved sigh. “Thank goodness. I’m glad this worked out, Mitama.”

“Hm. If I’m greeted like this every morning, I may live to be glad about it, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on tumblr wanted to see some Mitama, and though I wasn't super confident about writing her character, here she is! (Added challenges: Haiku being used the more Mitama gets turned on, and Mitama with clit + nipple piercings). I hope I did the suggestion justice, but the fact that I went for (consensual, previously agreed upon) somno as the kink this time kind of stopped me from really making the most of the first half of the prompt. If the requester wants something else, please let me know!
> 
> As always, any mistakes, comments, and (constructive) criticism is welcome both in the comments, and at my tumblr inbox at cuddlebros.tumblr.com/ask (where messages sometimes get eaten, but is still the easiest way to suggest or request something!). I also have a ko-fi now! The link is also at my tumblr.


End file.
